


Ghost’s Travels (a companion story)

by WinterWriter (Bebluvsnaru)



Series: The Prophecy of Three [3]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Adventure, Animals, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-07-29 14:05:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16265747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bebluvsnaru/pseuds/WinterWriter
Summary: To accompany 'After the Morning After'... Ghost’s perspective as Jon travels to Dragonstone.





	Ghost’s Travels (a companion story)

 

The white direwolf stretched within the empty stable stall after rising up off a cold bed of straw. His white fur stood on end in anticipation of the day, as a silent yowl formed over his large muzzle. It was dawn and the beginning to his daily routine.

Almost every morning Ghost woke and stretched his long body, before trotting out of the stables to pass the nervous stomps of the horses who sensed him moving past.

Ghost was usually the first one up around the yard besides the stable boy who was busy cleaning out the stalls and feeding the animals. As usual, the small boy watched the white wolf warily as he worked. But Ghost ignored him, moving silently out into the fresh morning air.

The direwolf made his way out of the yard and then past the God’s wood and through the outer wall into the icy forests surrounding the castle.

Not at all a domesticated dog nor a fan of any food tainted by human hands, Ghost continued to hunt for his own fresh meat in the early morning and then after dusk. But he was forced to travel further and further south of Winterfell’s walls in order to find food since winter had come. Animals south of the wall were less hardy and tended to migrate further south or hibernate in deep holes when the temperature grew too cold.

He very rarely traveled this far from his Jon, but with scarce game in the area, he was loosening his reigns further and further.

His senses told him that Jon was preparing to travel south soon anyway. Ghost would trail him, but perhaps not too close since his master was headed towards the big blue water and that wooden thing which sat upon it.

Ghost was not too keen about getting on another creaky boat.

This morning he ran swiftly towards the last spot where he hunted. He had smelt several hibernating critters in that area and had stuck to this wood for the last week, finding treats of fresh bloody meat hidden in burrows that he could dig up for a prize. But this time as he neared the area he picked up a new scent on a trail that led south towards the Riverlands.

The scent was new to the area, but it was old and deeply familiar to him. It was faint but enough to turn his head despite his stomach, pushing his run even further south.

* * *

 

Sansa pulled her large fur coat tighter around her shoulders. Jon had left her with a list of responsibilities to shoulder most of which she wished she could put off for another lifetime.

She saw the way the northern men eyed her. Half of them suspicious she was attempting to usurp her brother’s throne. The other half of them secretly hoping that was her plan. They would all remain loyal to Jon. For now. But Sansa was her mother’s daughter through and through, and she had far less faith in loyal men than her brother did.

Her mission at this moment was to locate Jon’s direwolf. She had not seen the animal in four days. Not since before Jon left for Dragonstone.

Ghost left Winterfell’s walls regularly, but he had always returned within a day’s time in the past.

The dire wolf was already gone for two entire days when Jon’s party left to ride for the coast, and before he left, Jon had asked Sansa to keep her eye out for his furry friend.

She kept this promise. Even sending some of the guard out of the wall to search the surrounding area for a sign of the direwolf.

None of them looked thrilled to be on this duty, as they were all severely afraid of the bastard king’s enormous wolf, who slept in a horse’s stall because it was too large to fit comfortably anywhere else.

Already on edge, Ghost’s sudden disappearance made Sansa even more nervous. She had a deep connection to a direwolf once, herself. Lady had been gentle and small, but Sansa realized even at that young and innocent age that the animal knew and sensed things that regular wolves did not.

A Winterfell guard showed up at her door as she stood brooding over where the white direwolf could have possibly run off to.

“Ummm... Lady Stark?”

“Yes!” Sansa answered sharply, annoyed that she was being pulled from her thoughts again. “What is it?!”

The guard was young and jumpy, and Sansa’s tone was not helping. “Ummm...”

“Spit it out! What is it?” She prompted again, impatiently.

“There’s a young woman here claiming to be your sister.”

* * *

 

Ghost followed his nose beyond the north into the grassy knolls of the Riverlands. Once green, the land was beginning to freeze like the north.

Most southern men, who past through the Riverlands now, found the change in weather daunting. A heavy depression set in with the cold, causing the local taverns and brothels to be frequented far more often then before.

Ghost like the men in the north took the new snow covered Riverlands in stride. But unlike the men in the north, he also took the bizarre new chaos of the region in stride as well.

Bandits and deserters ruled the area now.  Rowdy rabble-rousers who roamed the roads looking for vulnerable travelers to con or rob. None dared to approach the great white wolf however. Not with rumors of an enormous pack of blood thirsty wolves dragging men into the hills never to be seen again.

Ghost trotted deeper into the territory. He had been gone from Winterfell for over a week now, but still he headed south. His mission remained undeterred. Not even by the appearance of a few... then many... then several... then a massive amount of wolves along his flanks.

The wolves began to howl as they ran along side him. Ghost remained silent, still headed towards the source of the smell.

He had followed her trail from the north. Something or someone had drawn her there before she quickly turned back to her own territory.

Perhaps she had picked up Ghost’s scent along the way and then decided against approaching to closely. Perhaps she had followed her target long enough, only wishing to ensure a once young girl, now a young woman returned safely to her home.

Nymeria was wild, but she still had strong memories of her Ayria.

She stood on a large rock now looking down upon her sibling surrounded by a vast number of her wolves.

Her pack howled, but Nymeria remained silent like Ghost. Feeling each other out for the first time since they were separated as adolescents.

Nymeria who was wild and resourcefully smart. Ghost who was still, silent, yet commanding. Together again. Reunited in this place.

Nymeria looked off in the distance towards the enormous lake, around which she had been guarding and gathering an army of sorts for over five years.

She trotted off in that direction. Ghost following closely behind her as she led him away from the rest of the pack.

As the two direwolves moved away, the other wolves howled and danced in the moonlight, their bodies squirming and wiggling with anticipation. Just as they were drawn to Nymeria and this sacred place, they now were stirred by something else. A very powerful, old, and dangerous presence was slowly headed in their direction.


End file.
